


Mistle-told You So

by fem_castielnovak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Cursed Dean, F/F, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mistletoe, Pining, shoutout to Cas's Jewish background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8765134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fem_castielnovak/pseuds/fem_castielnovak
Summary: Charlie's intentional Christmas decorating unintentionally lands Dean under some cursed mistletoe. To her silent dismay, even Cas coming to the rescue doesn't provide instant gratification. Because sometimes, you have to wait for your friends to talk their shit out like real people.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas Eve and Happy Hanukkah, everyone!!

 

 

All it took was one nice, family dinner and an evening of them gathered in the library for Charlie to turn to Kevin and tell him, “I think Alex has a crush on Claire.”

Jody Mills had dropped the girls off earlier that day and from what Kevin could tell, they were going to be staying for a while. A storm system was coming through the Sioux Falls area and Jody said she would be too busy with sheriffing duties and being on call to worry about the teens in her care.   
Later, Kevin had overheard her tell Sam, “I caught wind of some pagan deities around our neck of the woods. With the snowstorm coming, I don’t want to risk the girls wandering off looking for trouble. They’ve done it before.”

Kevin had stifled a sigh;  _ great _ . More hunters. Just what he’d asked for from Santa.

But Jody as well as dinner had come and gone. Claire and Alex had just gone up to bed, and now it is only himself and Charlie left in the library.

“What?”

“I think Alex has a crush on Claire. I mean, Claire definitely has a crush on her. The way she looks at Alex … it’s like a watered down, puppy-love version of the way Cas looks at Dean.”

“Again; what?”

Charlie keeps going, “It’s just something about the way they were talking to each other. And the way they were curled up on the couch together. I could almost count the number of times I watched Alex stop herself midway through reaching for Claire’s hand.”

Kevin considers this for a moment. He begins to nod slowly as he mentally reviews the evening, “Yeah, probably.”

By that point, Charlie had spaced out, lost in thought, so Kevin goes back to reading.

⋇⋯⋯ ❦ ⋯⋯⋇

The next morning, he is awoken rudely.

“Up and at ‘em, Kev!” someone calls loudly from the other side of his bedroom door. He moans but stands and stumbles towards it, cracking it open to reveal a chipper, smiling Charlie.

“ _ You’re  _ going to help me decorate for Christmas.”

“Charlie,” he yawns, “it’s only the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Give it a break.”

“Kevin, if we start now we barely have a full month of Christmas joy. There  _ is _  no time for giving it a break.” She presents the mug she’s been holding closely to her chest, “Tea?”

⋇⋯⋯ ❦ ⋯⋯⋇

 “D’you think we might find a menorah down here?” Charlie asks. She reaches down into a box as tall as her waist and comes up with a handful of tinsel, “I heard Cas talking to Sam about Talmudic lore and how he’s an angel in Judaism.” She keeps pulling foot after foot of sparkling strand from the box, “He might like to celebrate Hanukah. It seems like that would be his kind of thing.”

Kevin still isn’t sure how he got roped into this.   
_ This _  being wading through random boxes of post-war knickknacks and home décor.   
The room serves as proof that the Men of Letters were not all hyper-focused nerds. Or that some were at least as gay as the brothers (he’s really, really hoping that the box at the back of the room was just full of very weirdly shaped ornaments).

Kevin sighs, looking over at Charlie. She’s wrapped the tinsel around herself like a garish boa. It’s the week after Thanksgiving; he can only imagine how much worse she’ll be the closer they get to the holiday itself.

“ _ Oooooohhh!” _  she coos in a voice muffled by cardboard. Her head pops back into view and in her hand she’s holding a red ribbon tied around a sprig of mistletoe.

Kevin groans and rolls his eyes.

“This is exactly what we needed. We can hang it up in a high-traffic area. But we’ll make it inconspicuous so they can’t see it right away. And we’ve got to be sure it’s a place we spend a lot of time in so that we can catch them and make them abide by the rule.”

Kevin grunts as he lifts and moves a box, then goes for another. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Come on, Kevin. This is perfect! We’ve got  _ two  _ reasons to get the mistletoe out. Alex and Claire need our help just as much as Dean and Cas do.”

“Well what if I get caught under it with someone?” he whines.

Charlie drops her hands in her lap and looks him dead in the eye. “The way I will know that either God or Santa exists is if you get caught beneath it with Sam.”

Kevin blushes and sneers at the same time, looking deeply offended as he retorts, “Well what if  _ you  _ get caught under it with someone?”

Charlie turns back to the decorations with her nose in the air, “You all should be so lucky.”

Kevin grimaces, realizing she won’t be dissuaded and Charlie takes his silence for concession.

⋇⋯⋯ ❦ ⋯⋯⋇

A half-hour later they make their way out of the storage room with their selections and a plan for where everything is to be put. The hallways they frequent and particularly the dormitory become littered with stray flecks of glitter and pine. Charlie puts literal boughs of holly over the doorways. She makes Kevin tie jingle bells to bedroom doorknobs and they both hang up the antique, framed, print-pictures of winter scenery and holiday revelry. Kevin thinks it’s too much but he can tell that Charlie is only just getting started.

When they get to the library, Charlie dumps the boxes she’s carrying in a corner to fish around in one. She comes up with a, “Ha!” bearing a handful of records. It only takes a moment before Bing Crosby’s crooning breaks the air. Alex actually looks up from her reading. Claire continues with whatever she’s doing on her phone.

“I sent Sam out for a Christmas tree before breakfast so he should be back soon.”

“Wait, a real Christmas tree?” Claire asks.   
Kevin’s startled by her saying anything at all.

“Yup. Pine needles, sap, the works.”

“They have trees out this early?” Kevin questions.

“I managed to find a farm that did. And these trees are enormous. I told Sam to get the biggest one and that it has to be at least eight feet.”

“Won’t it be dead before Christmas Eve?” Alex asks, expression tight and slightly confused.

“I will keep this tree alive one way or another, well into the New Year.” The implication that magic will be involved somehow, is less than subtle given their resources and circumstances.

Kevin feels Claire watching them as they rummage through the boxes and start arranging everything. They hang garlands and white lights around the walls. Some candles get placed on the mantle but that’s the extent of the Men of Letters’ non-tree decorations. Charlie is coming back from hanging a wreath on the front door when Sam enters from the garage.

“How’s the decorating going?”

“It was a goldmine down there. We’re going full post-war Americana: glass ball ornaments, enormous and tacky star-shaped tree-topper, colorful antique bulbs,  _ ugh _ , our tree’s going to look baller. They must have fifty feet of silver and gold tinsel.”

“Well, we’re going to need all of it. The tree I got is eleven feet tall.”

“Really?!” Charlie practically squeals.

Sam grins, “Yeah. You and Kevin want to help me unload it from the truck?”

⋇⋯⋯ ❦ ⋯⋯⋇

They manage to wrangle all eleven feet into the Perfect Spot.

Charlie reaches for the first box of ornaments when she catches sight of the mistletoe on top of it. The box is absently passed to Kevin as she reaches out for the sprig. Her eyes scan the room.  _ The doorway _ . High traffic, highly visible area, discrete plant placement, zero deniability. As innocuously as she can, Charlie drags the ladder over to the archway. She glances over her shoulder to ensure no one’s watching, before she climbs the ladder. If she stretches, she can just reach the center of the arch. She slips her hand into her pocket for one of the tacks they’d been using to hang the tinsel earlier. One good push sets it in the wall and it’s just a slip of the loose, red ribbons into a bow, then she’s down the ladder before anyone can notice.

⋇⋯⋯⋇⋯⋯ ❦ ⋯⋯⋇⋯⋯⋇

It smells like outside, but warmer, when Dean comes in from chopping wood.   
Charlie had laughed when he’d told her that’s what he was doing but he’d said if she wanted to keep using the fireplace, someone was going to have to maintain her habit. Besides, he’d wanted to get out of the bunker for a while.

He walks towards the library, where he hears voices and music. The sight he's greeted with gives him pause. He leans against the door jamb, watching Sam stretching on a step-stool to put the star at the top of the tree. Briefly he wonders where Cas is but the thought doesn't distract him. Charlie's on a ladder on the other side, arranging tinsel maybe. Kevin is hanging ornaments in the free spaces on the tree. Alex and Claire are nestled on the couch together.

It's nice. This alone is enough to get him into the holiday spirit.

Dean pushes off the doorframe, standing up and intending to step forward but he only accomplishes half of those motions. He looks down at his feet and lifts them to make sure there’s nothing stuck to his soles or gluing him to the floor. He tries again to step forward and he can sort of shuffle his feet but he can't go anywhere. He even tries leaning which apparently only succeeds in making him look ridiculous. Charlie, at least, sounds amused.

At Dean’s frown, her laughter diminishes to a puzzled smile, "What are you doing?"

"I'm stuck."

"You're ... stuck?"

"Yeah."

“What do you mean, stuck?” Kevin asks.

“ _ Stuck,  _ I mean,  _ stuck! _ ” he says with irritation.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean can tell that Claire and Alex have perked up at this and are paying full attention to him.

At the silence of his audience, Dean asks expectantly, "Does anyone know why I might be stuck?"

Charlie looks at Sam, who shrugs. Kevin is lost to the depths of the box in front of him. Alex and Claire look just as confused as Dean does, maybe a touch amused as well.

"Can you try and figure it out?" Dean asks, obviously exasperated.

Sam looks down towards the floor like he's mentally recounting what's happened in the near past that could have brought this on. Dean watches Charlie's eyes scan the area near and around him.

Kevin pulls his head out of the box and looks over his shoulder at Dean, "What does it feel like?"

"Oh my God!" Charlie exclaims.

"What?"

"The mistletoe!" she hisses.

"The  _ what _ ?" Dean looks like he's about to blow a fuse. He can see the moment Sam's eyes catch it, and tilts his head up to follow his brother's gaze.

"I told you that was a terrible idea," Kevin says.

Before Dean can make a remark about that, Sam pipes up; "Charlie where'd you get that from?"

"Uh, it was sorted in with the Christmas decorations. I just thought it was ... normal mistletoe."

"Why were you hanging mistletoe up in the first place?" Dean asks accusingly.

"Is that really the point? Shouldn't we be focusing on how to unstick you?"

Sam steps down off the ladder, "I'll go look through the card catalogue. See if there's anything in the files about this."

Dean grits his teeth, watching his brother leave. He turns back to find everyone focused on him.

“Take a picture,” he grouses, “It’ll last longer.”

His co-habitants go back to their own occupations but Charlie’s still looking at – no,  _ observing _  him.

“Is there something on my face?” Dean asks sarcastically.

“I was just thinking …”

“Yes?”

“I mean, if it’s the mistletoe keeping you there, you probably just have to kiss someone.”

The remark only serves to regain everyone’s attention.

“ _ What. _ ”

Kevin has the nerve to comment with, “That actually makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Claire agrees.

“It really does,” chimes Alex.

Dean only gives regard to Charlie, “And who exactly am I going to kiss? You? Sam?”

“Is everything alright?”   
The room’s collective attention gravitates from Dean to Castiel who stands in the library’s secondary entryway. “Sam said you all were in here but that I shouldn’t use the main entrance.”

Charlie’s face lights up and she turns to Dean with an eager, open-mouthed smile.   
All Dean can counter with is covering his face and groaning, “Oh my God.”   
Neither of them notice Claire’s eyes flicking back and forth between Cas and Dean.

Concern is written visibly on Cas’s face, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m stuck.”

“Under the mistletoe!” Charlie adds gleefully.

Cas looks up at the plant, eyes squinted, “Oh.” His expression is calculating, then he looks to Dean, “You need to be kissed by someone? Isn’t that just a suggested tradition?” He frowns thoughtfully, “I thought it was only applicable when you passed beneath it with another person.”

Dean sighs and drags his hands down over his face and drops them to his hips so he’s standing akimbo. “That’d be the usual case but I’m literally stuck under it. Something’s keeping me here.”

“We think the mistletoe’s cursed.”

“So then you  _ do _  need to be kissed by someone?” Cas asks, eyebrows raised high in question. He sounds like he’s clarifying something in a conversation with a small child.

“Why, yes!” Charlie exclaims, pleased that someone agrees with her line of thought. “We’re pretty sure a kiss would release him from the spell. Are you volunteering for the job?”

“And how exactly is kissing Cas better than kissing you?”

A look of consternation and offence spreads over Cas’s face.   
Charlie scoffs, “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe our levels of willingness? Five seconds ago you were as willing to kiss me as you were Sam – which, for the record, I appreciate. But at least you don’t see Cas as a sibling.”

Cas has that borderline condescending expression on again, “She does have a point.”

“Wait you’re – you’re willing to?” Dean’s surprise is evident.

“It’s why I asked if you needed someone to kiss you. I assumed that if you were standing there talking instead of moving, everyone else had refused you. I was going to volunteer to release you from the stipulation.”

“Oh.”

“… Shall I then?”

“Uh,” Dean clears his throat, “I guess. Yeah.” He can feel his cheeks starting to pink.

Cas is cool and collected as he crosses the room, and Dean isn’t sure if the moment stretches on or ends too soon. Cas stops in front of him and leans forward to drop a peck on his mouth. It’s soft and quick. Dean swallows hard, unsure what he should be feeling right now. He faces Charlie who has an air of disappointment about her.

“Did it work?” Dean asks.

With a shake of her head, Charlie comes back to herself, “Try it out.”

Dean tries to step out from under the archway, “No dice.”

“It would appear that now I’m stuck as well,” Cas says, shuffling but not moving away from the mistletoe.

“ _ Great _ .” Dean crosses his arms, “Now what?”

“We wait for Sam, I guess.”

Dean sighs discontentedly.

“You could always try again,” Charlie suggests.

Dean opens his mouth to respond but his brother’s entrance saves him from having to.

“So get this,” Sam walks in, reading the card in his hand, “the mistletoe  _ is  _ cursed. There was a note attached mentioning a whole story behind it about a brokenhearted warlock but-“ he looks up to gauge his audience and catches sight of the couple in the other doorway. “Cas, I told you not to come through the front entrance.”

“I didn’t. We thought I could get Dean out from under it if I kissed him, but it only got me stuck as well.”

Sam looks a bit startled but frowns, “The card says that a kiss will release whoever is caught under the mistletoe.”

“Could the card be wrong?” Kevin asks.

“I don’t think so, it states the cure then in parenthesis lists five case numbers. I'm assuming those are tests they performed to find the cure.”

Charlie wonders if those were  _ all _  the gay things that the Men of Letters had to try, or just the few they chose to keep on record.

“Does it have to be a heterosexual kiss?” Kevin asks.

Sam shakes his head, “No. Any regular, old kiss should have worked. Just try again.”

Dean looks to Cas, who shrugs. The hunter wets his lips, “I guess it’s worth another shot?” The question is subtle but when Cas nods, Dean thinks he must’ve heard the inflection.

This kiss isn’t much different from the first. Cas leans forward and Dean can’t tell if he’s imagining it or not, but it might last an extra half-second. It’s still just lips touching lips. And once more, it doesn’t work.

It takes about three more stilted kisses before they start receiving pointers and changing variables. Is it footing? Is it how close they are? Should the kiss be shorter? Longer? Do they need to angle their heads?

Dean wishes this weren’t so public, but he has no idea how he’d handle it if the situation were any less so.

“Let Cas lead,” Sam suggests

“He’s  _ been _  leading,” Dean insists.

“I’ll bet,” Kevin mumbles but only Alex and Claire hear him.

“C’mon there must be another way,” Dean says. Castiel’s expression pinches but he says nothing.

Sam shrugs his shoulders helplessly and shakes his head, “None that are faster than the two of you kissing properly.”

“But there  _ is _  another way,” Dean states hopefully.

“Probably, but it would take days of research to find. Not counting however long it would take to get any ingredients or spells that the cure might require.”

Dean sighs, “Alright.” He musters his resolve and manages to face Cas once more, “C’mon, champ. Hit me with your best shot.”

Fifteen more kisses haven’t gotten them anything but dark pink lips. The color looks becoming on Cas and Dean finds himself anticipating finding out if a darker shade would look even better on them.

“Again?” Cas asks, tone neutral.

“Okay, we’re gone,” Claire says, standing suddenly and heading to the door with Alex in tow. “This was funny at first but now it’s just weird. You two are being so awkward.”

“Yeah, you guys just … I don’t know.” Charlie bites her lip, “You  _ look _  like you’re doing it wrong.”

Cas sighs and Dean huffs in frustration, “I’m trying my hardest.”

“Don’t try harder,” Charlie chastises, “Try better.”

Dean crosses his arms and cocks his head defensively, “Are you calling my kissing-skills sub par?” It’s not like he hasn’t been participating.

She rolls her eyes, “No, just-“

“ _ Mean it _ ,” Sam says.

Dean swallows but once more turns to fully face Cas. He wonders how much darker his blush is going to get before someone notices.   
_ ‘Mean it,’  _ he thinks to himself. Or maybe he murmurs it, if the flicker of Cas’s smile is anything to go by.

Cas leans forward and this time, Dean meets him halfway. Cas draws a quick breath at the unanticipated action. He presses closer and Dean tilts his head, matching him measure for measure.   
Dean was going to leave it at that without going after more – Cas was doing him a favor. As far as Dean was concerned, this kiss was totally gratifying,  _ beyond _  serving its purpose. But then he felt a tongue glance along his lower lip.   
He’s nearly startled enough to open his eyes, but manages instead to part his lips in invitation. Not only that, but he finds himself reaching up a hand to cup Cas’s cheek as Cas’s tongue slips the furthest little bit into his mouth. Dean feels the weight of a hand settle on his hip and another slide up to wrap around his forearm and keep it in place. Cas is so gentle and warm, and the room is so quiet. Dean gets lost for a moment.   
Their lips separate but neither draws back; they stand close, staring at each other with wide pupils, their noses nearly touching.

Charlie’s gaping mouth snaps shut audibly, but Sam and Kevin aren’t as capable. She clears her throat, “Maybe try the barrier again?”

Dean doesn’t look at her, but replies in a rough voice, “Yeah, okay.”   
Focus trained on Cas, he sidesteps and is pleased, but somehow unsurprised to be successful in escaping the entryway. He  _ almost _  holds his hand out for Cas to follow him, catching himself as Cas steps into his space without prompting.

For a moment, everyone stands there awkwardly.

Charlie breaks the tension; "Well, now that that's settled," she jumps off of her perch, "Kevin and I are going to the store to get one of those grabby things to safely extract the mistletoe." She moves to take Kevin by the arm. "You should probably go put away that card, Sam. Now. So it doesn't get lost." There's an odd cadence to her words, but she breaks the moment again; "Dean, Cas, do you want to finish putting up the decorations for us?" she asks, already on her way out the door, towing Kevin along behind her. Sam seems to be swept up in her wake, because he's gone in a blink.

Dean and Cas look at each other, and Cas shrugs but walks over to the decoration box, so Dean follows suit.   
"What d'we have here..." Dean mumbles as he and Cas start pawing through the colorful tangle.

They assess the situation, but it doesn’t take Cas long to get an idea and begin organizing. Dean decides to let him work and offers to go get them something to drink. Cas hums his acknowledgement and keeps picking at the wires and ornaments. 

Dean sighs and groans as he stands, ignoring the click of joints, and only just remembering to take the side entrance to leave. 

It means he takes the long way to the kitchen, but that’s like  _ five _ extra steps. It’s not a big deal. Except… as he’s coming up, he can hear Alex and Claire talking, which is strange. Usually they stop talking as soon as they get wind of his presence. But apparently they can’t see him coming from this angle. He slows his steps. 

“... sex life, but it’s just pitiful to watch Cas pine like that. And I can’t even talk to him about it,” Claire’s voice floats out from the kitchen. A piece of silverware clinks against someone’s dish. 

“Why not?” 

“He’s expressly forbidding it. He used those exact words.” There’s a small shuffling sound. 

“I mean …” Alex sounds more tentative than Dean thinks he’s ever heard her, and her voice is low, “is there anything you can really do in the first place?”

“Other than give Dean a stern talking to? I mean, maybe I could make like a spreadsheet of evidence that Cas is in love with him, and why they’d be perfect for each other.” Alex snorts. “But not really, no. It’s just kind of …” 

Dean quickly stops processing whatever it is that Claire’s saying. Attempting to put two and two together consumes his full attention.    
He slowly backtracks towards the library until he finds himself paused in the doorway. He stands there, watching Cas’s shoulders shift and stretch as he paws at the decorations. 

“Hey, Cas …?”

Cas grunts in response.

“How much did you enjoy kissing me?”

Cas sits up straighter and his arm falls slack, to the floorboards where it had been holding something up in front of him. Dean steps further into the room when he remains silent. 

“Cas?”

“Dean?” he replies and Dean can’t tell if it’s sarcastic or prompting. Dean sits down next to him, just adjacent enough to see Cas’s face and give the illusion of space between them.

“Are you attracted to me?” then, because he knows Cas, adds, “In a specific, non-abstract sense?”

Cas’s eyes don’t come up from where they’re locked onto the ornament he’s unboxing. 

“Did Claire say something to you?”

“No,” Dean answers because she didn’t say anything  _ to _ him, and from what Claire was saying, that’s not quite what Cas is asking right now. “I was,” he clears his throat, “I was accidentally eavesdropping.”

His motions slow, “...And?”

“And? And I figured it was something we should talk about.” Cas is hyperfocused on the box but Dean’s eyes rove his face. “It’s not everyday you find out your best friend might be in love with you.”

Cas hunches in on himself, “You… you didn’t know?”

“You’re kind of hard to read, man.”

“I’m- I felt … very transparent.” Cas fiddles with the little silver clasp at the top of the trinket. 

“Did you think I was just, ignoring how you felt?”

“Is that really so hard to believe?” Cas mumbles, as he very nearly pops the clasp off. He starts trying to push it back into place. 

“I- I’m sorry you felt that way. It’s something I’m … I should work on.”

Cas grunts softly at him and stands up. Dean stays cross-legged on the floor, blinking up at his back as he fusses over the tree. 

“Cas?”

He doesn’t respond.

“I’m trying to work on it  _ now _ .”

Cas stops fiddling with the ornament placement. 

“I wanna-” Dean wets his lips, “I wanna know if maybe you actually … feel the same way about me that I feel about you.”

“Which is?” Cas deadpans, still facing the tree. 

“Jeez- You gonna give me any breaks, here?”

“No.”

Dean huffs a sigh, “I’m kind of in love with you?”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

Dean scrubs a hand over his face and suppresses a groan, “I’m in love with you.”

Cas hums thoughtfully and goes back to attending to the tree. 

“... Cas?”

“That’s my name, and you’re kind of wearing it out.”

“Who the hell teaches you this stuff?”

Cas turns and gives him the driest of looks. 

“Alright, alright.” 

Cas looks away again and starts tugging at the tinsel, so Dean gets up and steps in close. He leaves space for Cas to move away, but feels brave enough to reach out a hand and press it gently above the concave of his back. 

“You wanna hold up for a sec?”

“Why?”

“Maybe so I could get some feedback?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Um … some … kissing? If you want? And me knowing to leave you alone, if you don’t, I guess.” He lightens the pressure of his hand, but Cas leans back into the touch. 

Cas looks down at his hands as he wrangles against the static tangling the tinsel to his fingers. “Kissing sounds nice.”

Dean lets a smile break out on his face, “Yeah?”

Cas gives up on the tinsel and turns around, fisting a hand suddenly in the front of Dean’s sweater. 

“Yeah,” he says thoughtfully, zeroing in on Dean’s mouth. 

It’s easy to lean in this time. Easy to press his mouth to Cas’s now that he knows it’s wanted, and without an audience. He lets his free arm wrap slowly around Cas and gets a double-fisted tug on his sweater in response. The kiss lingers and Dean thinks about the dramatic scenes in the old holiday films that he really loves to watch on TV. 

They break just long enough to breathe. Dean smiles and with his lips still close enough to brush against his best friend’s, softly tells him, “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ❄️Thank you for reading, and happy holidays to you all❄️
> 
> Exits are to your left, your right, and your rear, restrooms are to the front, Kudos and comments are found below, and as always, very appreciated. Thank you for flying Air fem-castielnovak.


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